


Tony Stark's Daughter

by Paprikachan



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, F/M, Iron Man - Freeform, Other, Romance, daughter - Freeform, powers, super hero, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paprikachan/pseuds/Paprikachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The beginning of Riley's story.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Riley's story.

Chapter One

 

The sun reached the ground, spilling into pools of brilliant light that captured the bird. Unaware of it’s own importance, the feathered creature pecked away at the concrete in search of food, like the brainless thing it pretended to be. It was perfect. Nothing but the vibrant greens of the bushes could steal its beauty away from it.

Click.

The bird flew away with the shutter of the camera lens, but I didn’t care. I already had my perfect shot.

“Can I talk now?” Noelle whispered next to me. She had stood there patiently for the last five minutes, silent, just as I had told her to do. I had to hand it to her; that must have been hard. She was hardly the silent type. She shifted her weight to the other foot, and scowled at me, waiting for a response.

“Sure, but I’d rather you not.” I studied my latest photos. There were some good ones, but the final few were all blurry, but overall I was satisfied. Thank you, sun, for being exceptionally bright today.

Noelle glared at me, and threw up her middle finger. Ah, friendship. How nice. “Can we just go now? You’re parents are probably waiting for you in the car, and my feet hurt so fucking bad. If you would stop taking pictures of birds every 5 goddamn minutes we would both be home by now, and I would out of these fucking shoes! Seriously, why didn’t you tell me not to wear heals to graduation?!”

 

“Looks like somebody needs a snickers,” I laughed. Unlike Noelle, I was in a fantastic mood. A beautiful sunny day, a new camera, a new diploma, a new life...nothing could bring me down. Especially not when I have a great surprise waiting for me at home- or so I’m told by my parents. “You’re still coming to my party, right?”

Rolling her eyes at me, Noelle sighed. “Of course I am. That’s why we planned them for different days, remember?”

“No. I try to forget our conversations,” I teased.

“Watch it Riley, or I’ll take back my invitation to you for MY party.”

“Is that a promise?”

We laughed at ourselves, still teasing each other the same way we used to when we were just kids. The only difference was instead of butthead, it was asshole, and instead of sticking our tongues out, we flipped each other off. But really, it was just like we never left the second grade.

We reached the parking lot where both our parents waited for us to take us home. We didn’t even bother saying goodbye, as we would be seeing each other later that night for my graduation party.

 

*****

 

Eight outfits, three failed attempts at acceptable eyeliner, and a sad excuse for a messy bun later, and I was finally ready for my party. My parents had been planning it for weeks, and had to call ahead even before that to get reservations for the restaurant. That’s what happens when your favorite dining establishment had a perfect view of the Avenger’s headquarters. Not that that had anything to do with it being my favorite restaurant. Just kidding, that’s pretty much the exact reason. I’m not afraid to admit I have a slight obsession.

My mom screamed up the stairs, “Riley! If you don’t get down here in 1 minute, we’re leaving without you!”

“Coming!” Here’s to hoping my mom doesn’t get so frustrated she kills me by the end of the night...

 

*****

 

Rain drifted past my open window. I hated being in the car, and my mom driving wasn’t helping. It’s not that she was a terrible driver...she just always insisted on playing the worst music while she drove. And todays ride was going to be a long one. I practically begged her to let me, dad, or our neighbor’s cat,drive, but she insisted that she wanted me to be able to relax on our way to the party. It was a long drive, the restaurant being downtown, and us living in the suburbs of New York, and she said “today is a special day! You shouldn’t drive on your special day!” No amount of reasoning worked. My mom failed to understand how driving, and not listening to terrible music, could possibly be relaxing.

Halfway there, and we were on the second repetition of her favorite CD. My dad complained the entire time that he was losing his appetite, while my mom just laughed it off. I pulled out my camera, desperate for a distraction from her latest country fascination.

Click. The rain had made a lovely pattern on the sunroof, almost like liquid stars in a gray universe. Click. My mom sang with great enthusiasm, and my dad groaned with even greater enthusiasm. Click. The street lights had finally turned on, reflected in beginnings of a puddle. Click. The blur of the cars around us creates a wall of headlights. Click. A pair of those headlights is coming straight at us. Click.

I’ve never been a huge fan of actions movies. Exploding buildings and crashing cars had seemed too fictional to excite me. I wondered, if when this was over, I would be able to watch an action movie in the same, bored way again. I probably won’t be able to. Not without comparing it to this night.

It’s not like the movies. You don’t have time to turn the to just the right angle, so everyone lives. You don’t even realize what’s happened until it's too late to do anything but wait and die. You don’t feel anything at first. It’s what you hear that’s the scary part. The sound of crunching metal, the shattering of glass, and the shriek of the brakes, as they try desperately to stop the inevitable. I’ll never be able to forget.

It was bright. Loud. Violent. I couldn’t bring myself to focus on what was happening, there were too many sights, scents, sounds...I didn’t know what was going on. I struggled to hold onto to a lucid minute, the seconds skipping around in bright light, unbearable heat and the terrible sensation of spinning.

I was on the ground, wet. Heavy raindrops fell from the sky mixing with the glass and blood in my hair. I groaned, and tried to get up. A foot stepped on my arm, preventing me from doing so. I called for my parents. Screamed their names, even. I sprawled out my other arm, reaching, searching, for any sign of them. The foot pushed down harder. I yelped.

“Don’t move,” someone said. I didn’t listen. I had to find them. I had to make sure they were okay. I soon learned that was a horrible idea. Who ever had been keeping me down picked me up. They were rough. If their goal was to hit every cut and bruise while flinging me around, they were doing a marvelous job. Every movement was filled with pain. My head throbbed, and I was hardly able to catch even a few coherent glimpses of the scene. Those I did catch, I didn’t like.

Our car, totaled. A second car right in front, no damage. I It was huge compared to our small Nissan. No wonder it had so easily crumpled our car.The trunk was open, and I had a dreadful feeling that I would soon be the lone occupant of said trunk.

A crumpled figure rose from the wreckage of our car. It was my dad, trying to stop whoever was taking me. His left arm swung at his side, limp, His face was almost unrecognizable, the only truly visible feature were the whites of his eyes- the only things that stood out against the red of his face. He leaned on the remnants of our car, shaking violently. His less damaged arm raised slowly, aiming something at the person holding me. A gun.

The person sighed. “Come on, you don’t really want to do that,” it was a man’s voice. He sounded amused, almost. “do you, Rick?” Rick. Who’s Rick? My dad’s name is David…

“Let my daughter…” He was sent into a coughing fit, the gun shaked wildly in his hands, “let her...go!” His hand tightened its grip, attempting a more solid aim.

The man laughed, “You and I both know I can’t do that.” He flung me over his other shoulder, freeing up a hand. I heard the soft click of a gun, ready to be fired at any moment.

A gunshot. A thump. The broken man who had been my father no longer stood. The man laughed again. Something inside me boiled. Who ever this psycho was, they had no fucking business coming here, causing our car to crash, killing my mom in the collision, shooting me dad! They would be fucking sorry they had messed with me and my family.

“You killed my them…” I whispered. “you...killed them…” I felt sick. More than that, I was burning. I was terrified, and pissed, and confused, and desperate, and the only thing I could think of was hurting him. Any disorientation would have to wait. I thrashed against the man, trying desperately to get away. He held me tighter, I kicked harder. He threatened to shoot me, and I bit him.

He dropped me to the ground, and I backed away as fast as I could. I stood up, swaying slightly. He aimed his gun at me. My gut felt hotter now, and an intense pressure was building up. The heat was spreading, first to my legs, making me stand a little sturdier, then to my arms, giving me the strength to bring them up to my face.

I was ready to fight.

The man taunted me. He chuckled, not believed for one second that I was any threat to him.

He came at me, slamming the handle of his gun into my forehead. I fell to the ground. He reached for me again, but his hand recoiled. He looked at me, eyes wide. “Fuck, you’re that one…” he cursed. The world was becoming brighter and brighter until everywhere I looked was doused in an angry yellow light. It took me a while to realize it was coming from me. I lifted my hand, not too sure what I expected to happen

It certainly wasn't that.

A flying unicorn coming to my rescue, my dad coming back to life and finally taking that shot, the man dropping his gun, apologizes, and simply disappearing...anything seemed more like than what actually happened.

The light radiating from my body had come together to form a ball, about the size of a basket ball, formed right in front of where I held out my hand. It was solid light. The man barely had any time to react to it coming right at him.

A small blast, and it was all over.

*****

I woke with bright lights blaring in my face. The sound of constant beeping and the smell of antiseptic hung in the air.My mouth tasted like I ate an iron bar for lunch, and my stomach felt the same. Something soft squeezed my hand, and I heard a tiny gasp.

“Riley? Riley! You’re awake, oh my god, thank God, holy fuck, you’re awake!” Noelle sat next to my bed. Tears of relief poured out of her eyes, as she struggled between getting a nurse and hugging me. I really wish she hadn’t chosen the latter. Her hug was sweet, and emotionally comforting, but holy hell did it hurt...Noelle pulled back, and looked at me. Her blues eyes were framed with red, and her blonde hair was in a frenzy. She looked like she was the one in a car wreck. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Can I get you anything?”

I tried to sit up, and soon regretted it. My stomach had been burned, and there were cuts and bruises everywhere. Every limb had some sort of bandage around it, and even my head hadn’t escaped unscathed. I was the mother fucking Wizard of Gauze. “Noelle…” She leaned forward, and held my hand tighter. “What am I going to do now?”

Noelle looked down, then launched into another hug. “I don’t know,” she whispered to me. “I really don’t know…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Constructive critiscm is very welcome. All of these chapters are unedited, so I hope you will forgive the occasional typo. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley finds herself in a desparate situation as she begins dealing with her loss.

CHAPTER TWO  
Chapter Two

 

[Two months ago]

 

Someone knocked softly on my bedroom door. I shut my laptop and told them to come in. My mom opened the door, and shut it behind her. She sat down beside me on my bed, and took my hand. Distress was written all over her face, and it took her a minute before she spoke. “Riley, you know your father and I love you very much,” she started, “and we would do anything for you. As your parents.” She took a deep breath and paused just long enough for me to say something.

“Mom, what’s going on?” I’ll admit, her tone of voice was concerning. Something really seemed wrong. She ignored my question.

“You’re eighteen now, and it’s about time you know. You’re father was right, I should have stopped beating around the bush a long time ago” Her voice cracked slightly. “Riley...oh gosh I can hardly say it... you’re adopted.”

“I know,” I said, completely unfazed.

My mom’s face froze, stuck in a rather unflattering state of confusion. “You knew? For how long?!”

“Since sixth grade. I did a project on blood types. Two O types can’t result in an AB blood type.”

She was dumbfounded. Slowly processing what I had said, she asked one more question. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I smiled, and squeezed her hand. “Because I don’t care. You and dad are my parents. I don’t need to share your DNA to know that.” My mom laughed, and hugged me, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek.

She pulled away and was quiet again. She produced a manilla folder from behind her back, and handed it to me. “If anything were to happen to your father and me, I want you to have this. It contains your original birth certificate, and the names of your birth parents. If anything were to happen, go to them.” She stood up, having done what she came to do, and left me to think by myself.

I held the folder, curiosity begging me to open it, and the love for my parents begging me not to. Finally, I took the folder, unopened, and shoved in my desk drawer, determined not to give it a second thought.

 

[Present]

Three days at the city hospital flew by in a medicated haze. Noelle had been by my side the duration of my stay there, and was both a relief and a nuisance. I loved having her around, as she was very supportive, but I could have done without a certain representation of the male anatomy that I had to disguise as a rocketship. This was exponentially more difficult since I had to resort to using my left hand to edit the drawing, because the cast was on my right arm. Seriously, Noelle? Have some respect for your friend’s broken arm!

By early afternoon I was checked out of the hospital, and Noelle was dropping me off at home. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” She asked, for the fifth time since picking me up. She placed the lasagna and muffins, courtesy of her mother, on the counter with my prescriptions.

I assured her I was perfectly fine on my own, and warned her that she couldn’t afford to take any more days off work. I grabbed a muffin, and took a huge bite. It was melt-in-your-mouth warm. “Mmm,” I said “It’s always nice eating muffins fresh out of the oven.”

Noelle gave me a strange look. “Are you sure you haven’t taken your pain meds yet? ‘Cuz you sound like it. Those muffins were made last night.” To prove her point, she picked up a second muffin and rubbed in my face how it was indeed room temperature. I laughed it off, and blamed it on being sleep deprived and hungry. The last thing I wanted was for Noelle to think my brain had somehow been damaged in the accident. I took another bite, ignoring the heat I so clearly felt from the baked good.

 

*****

“I’ll be back right after work to check on you, okay?” Noelle said from the doorway.

“Yeah, yeah. Really, I’ll be fine,” I lied.

She gave me her specialty look. The one that made it clear she wasn’t going to put up with my BS. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I seem to get that look a lot. “Don’t take your meds until after you eat something.” She reminded me. “And drink plenty of water! And-” I shoved her out the door with my good arm.

“Have a good day at work!” I yelled at her, slamming the door on the rest of her motherly warnings. On her way to her car she shouted “call me if you need anything!” and then was off.

I sighed in relief, turning back to the now empty house. The vastness of it seemed to magnify my grief, making it echo against every wall. I walked back into the kitchen on less-than-steady feet, wiping my cheeks clear of tears every now and then. I poured myself a rather large glass of juice, made my way into the living room, and took a seat in my dad’s favorite chair. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

I turned on the TV, and for the next few hours, I was able to cast away any thoughts of the accident and focus all my terrible feelings on how much I hated the laugh tracks on the Big Bang Theory. That soon ended when I changed the channel, only to be met with one of the most violent crash scene I have ever seen in an action movie.

I stopped breathing, my heart seized up, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t look away. Faces in the movie were replaced with the faces of my family. Gunshots rung in my ears. The camera panned to show a shot of blood leaking from the car. I caught a sight of myself in the pool. What I saw terrified me.

The light was back with twice the ferocity of before. My skin was radiating light and heat, particularly in the palms of my hands. What was left of the juice began to boil in the glass. I jumped from the chair and yelped. The glass fell from my hands and exploded into a million pieces on the hardwood floor.

“No, no, no, no,” I cried. I backed up against the wall, trying to get a hold of myself. I was shaking violently, and no amount of telling myself to “get it together” was helping.

The cast around my right arm was beginning to melt, filling the room with the smell of burning plastic. Blisters were forming on some areas on my skin, and even the smallest gesture of my hands sent a ball of light shooting across the room.

One of the balls, after effectively destroying my TV, came back and hit me in the stomach. I coughed. I sobbed. I cough-sobbed.

Not knowing what else to do to make the burning stop, I ran to the bathroom and took refuge under a steady stream of freezing cold water. I crouched under the shower, buried my hands in my hair, and rocked myself back and forth, wishing more than anything that it would all just go away.

 

*****

I don’t know how long I stayed under the running water in that position, but it had to have been at least a few hours. I was yanked back into reality by Noelle’s lady like screeching, “what the FUCK happened here!?” followed by sprinting down the hall, and the doorknob slamming into the bathroom wall as she flung it open. “Riley! Are you okay?? What happened!? Oh my god, you’re a mess!” She pried my hands off of my head, holding them close to her heart. She searched my face for an explanation.

I tried to tell her what happened. How the scene in the movie made me flip out. How I tried to calm down, but only made it worse. How I must be some sort of freak that can produce blasts of energy. But none of that would come out. The only thing I could do was hug her, and cry.

*****

 

Beautiful, magical Noelle had somehow persuaded me to get out of the shower, dry off, and put on some decent clothes while she started cleaning up the mess. She also told me to pack a bag. We were going to spend the night at her house.

I sat in my room, wondering what I should pack, when I remembered something I hadn’t thought about in months. The folder. of course, the folder! I opened my desk drawer, half expecting it to be gone. It wasn’t.

‘If anything were to happen, go to them.’

I gingerly pulled out the birth certificate, bracing myself for knowledge I wasn’t sure I was prepared to have. The names of my birth parents. Two people I’ve never even heard of that I was undeniably connected to.

Except I had heard of them. At least, I’ve heard of my father. Right there, in the space reserved for the father’s name, was a name I would never forget.

Anthony E. Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Your words truly inspire me. Constructive criticism is very welcome. Please forgive the occasional typo, these chapters are unedited!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noelle encourages Riley to go to Stark Tower to finally meet her biological father.

Chapter Three

 

Emma Stewart and Tony Stark. I must have read the names a dozen times, and they still looked so unfamiliar,so daunting. I can’t say whether I was confused, happy, or anything else for that matter. In all honesty, I was a lot of things, and I didn’t know what any of them were.

The Stark name loomed over me, it’s weight so overpowering that I had to sit on my bed so I could catch my breath. How is this possible? I thought. How could I, the local nobody, be related to him? And my mother. What was she like? Was she a model? An actress? I knew what his type was before Pepper. A journalist maybe?

“Riley, I’m coming in,” Noelle announced. She opened my bedroom door, tea in one hand, and a rolled up ace bandage held under her armpit to free up the other. “Oh good, you finished getting dressed.” She gave me that smile. You know the one. The “you poor thing” smile. I hated it.

Noelle set the tea on my bedside table, and sat beside me. She took my arm with the burns into her hands and begun the process of wrapping it. Every now and then I caught a whiff of disinfectant and cleaner that took me back to the hospital. “Does it hurt?” Noelle asked.

“Yeah. Kinda.” There was no point in telling her no. I’m sure my whispered curses when she touched the more sensitive burns had already given me away.

“Jesus Christ, Riley. What happened while I was gone?”

I had already run a few scenarios in my head where I told her everything. In each one of them, she called me a freak and assassinated me on the spot. Granted, that was probably just my drugged-up paranoia talking, but you know, anything is possible.

“I’ll tell you what happened, but you have to promise you’ll believe me.” She raised an eyebrow. “I know I’ve very little sleep and a lot of drugs, but I swear I’m not making this up.” She assured me she would believe whatever I told her, and continued to wrap my arm.

“Since the crash, I’ve been experiencing these...episodes. During them, I heat up and produce light that sometimes forms a ball and goes apeshit crazy. It’s painful, and bright, and destructive, and I have no idea how to stop it from happening.” There. I said it. I could feel myself shaking a bit. Noelle didn’t seem to notice.

How could she when she was too busy laughing her ass off?

“Seriously Riley? You can come up with something better than that. If you’re going to make shit up, at least be a bit more creative.” What? Did I miss something? When she finally noticed that I wasn’t laughing along with her, it was her turn to be confused. “Wait, you don’t remember?”

“What?” I was utterly baffled by her reaction.

“Come on! Really? You’re telling you don’t remember, at all?” I shook my head. “That’s the exact power you used to make up when we would pretend to be superheroes! We played that so often, I’m honestly shocked you don’t remember it.”

“I promise, I have no idea what you’re talk about.”

“Wow. Ok. Well, you would alway say you had the power to control light, which I thought was super lame because obviously flying, mind reading, and flaming breath was way more badass. But anyway, you would refuse to wear anything except for your gold gymnastic leotard and a towel-cape.”

“What?” All this was news to me.

“You called yourself ‘The Glowworm.’” She could hardly hold in her laughter. “My mom still has the home videos,” She said, wiping away a tear.

“Well, this time I’m not playing pretend.” I hastily finished the wrapping job and stood up, ready to prove myself to her. The most I could pull off on command was a dim glow, but it was enough.

“Oh.” Was all she said.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m a freak!”

“That’s not what I-”

“ I mean, you left me alone for only a few hours and I nearly blew up my house. What if it gets worse? What if I hurt someone next time? I have no idea how to control this stupid thing,and the name of the only person that would have even the slightest clue is in that folder!” I gestured toward the folder, still on my bed. Noelle looked at it, then at me, then at it again.

“Can I…?” I nodded. She picked it up, looked at the birth certificate. Her face didn’t change. “I’ll take you there.”

“What?”

“To Stark Tower. I’ll take you there right now. He’s probably still awake!”

Was she serious? “It’s not that easy!” I tried to tell her. “He’s Tony freaking Stark! I can just Waltz up to his front door in the middle of the night, claim he’s my father with only a flimsy piece of paper to prove it, and ask him to cure me. Are you crazy?”

“Whatever,” she brushed it off. “We’ll figure it out when we get there, let’s go.” She stood up, file in hand, and started dragging me out the door.

“That’s not much of a plan, is it?”

“Oh yeah?” Noelle turned around and gave me another one of her specialty looks. “And how have plans worked out for you in the past?”

“Hey!” I was only slightly offended. “My latest plan was a masterpiece!”

She rolled her eyes. I was looking at the back of her head, but I just knew she did. “They’re still finding crickets at school, and don’t even get me started about the cow!”

 

\----------

Stark Tower, or the Avenger’s Tower, whatever you want to call it, is a lot bigger in person than you would think. Perhaps the fate that awaited me inside of it was what made it look so huge, but I’m sure that only had a small part to do with it.

On the inside, it was just as surreal. Everything was so clean, and modern. The first two floors were usually open to visitors (Tony sure loved to show off), but to get into the private elevator you had to gain access through an intercom-like system next to the elevator door. Probably. I wasn’t entirely sure what this thing was, actually. I had never seen anything like it before.

“I’m really doing this,” I exclaimed in disbelief. Noelle gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’m about to meet my biological father!” Under any other circumstances I would be thrilled.

“Yeah, yeah, that will only happen if you actually push the buzzer.”

“Well give me a second! I have to savour this moment and-  
She pushed it for me.

“Welcome to the Avenger’s Headquarters,” a warm, english voice welcomed us. “Please state your name, and enter the security code given to you at the time you scheduled your appointment.” A projection of a keyboard came out of the wall, ready for us to input said code.

“Um, I don’t have an appointment.”

“This is troubling, indeed. Would you like to set an appointment now? There is an available time in 17 months.” The voice informed us.

“I need to see Mr. Stark, right away, it’s an emergency.”

“I’m terribly sorry, but without an appointment, I can’t allow you to-”

“That’s okay JARVIS, I got this,” Tony’s voice took over the intercom. “What do you want?”

I looked at Noelle for some hint of what I should say. She shrugged. Way to be absolutely no help, thanks.

I decided to just go for it. “I’m your daughter, and I need your help.” There was a brief pause on the other end.

“Come on up,” the elevator doors opened. Though it sounded slightly more distanced we also heard “Pepper, I’m going to need another drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Your words truly inspire me. Constructive criticism is very welcome. Please forgive the occasional typo, these chapters are unedited!


End file.
